Until He's Gone
by Mable
Summary: One waits at the Library, alone, for the others to return with a missing Six. To his surprise, Six returns alone, and in his attempt to assist the Artist he learns more than he expected, about the both of them. 1x6


**Mable: Here we are! A 1x6 request fic for Cheery Sparkle; I hope you like it! I actually had four different 1x6 fics being started at once, so the others may pop up in the near future, and I hope their quality it good enough. I don't own 9, Enjoy!**

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_**Until He's Gone**_

Everyone was to blame. They all knew it and all expected it.

They all were out searching except for a few who couldn't. Two was still unable to get up, his legs still not fixed, and Five was left to strictly watch and work on the Inventor. One was also left behind as, because his hand still had incredible pain after being healed. He strictly sent Eight out, though, who was actually feeling guilt after everything that had happened.

From what Eight said, and the others knew he was actually being sincere, he had been bullying the Artist again and accidently kicked over the inkwell. He admitted that he was holding Six's key over his head, so he hadn't actually intended to do the act, but hadn't exactly apologized after the incident. As such, they knew why Six slipped out, to find ink. As One stared up at the still intact window, high in the Library, he could see the rain pelting against it and occasionally see a flicker of lightning.

The booming thunder was positively the most unnerving part, though. One did not enjoy loud noises, especially these, and he exhaled. "Leaving in the middle of the night; the last thing I expected of you, Six." He wasn't too sure why the Guard had been bullying the Artist so much, he wasn't exactly aware of it until this incident, and it unnerved him more than the thunder ever could. He began to pace the cool floor at a steady pace and waited for someone to return.

It was then that he heard footsteps and perked before looking to the entrance. Only a single being stood there and, surprisingly, it was the one that the others were probably still searching for outside in the Emptiness. Six didn't look well. He was soaked with rainwater and looked weary. His yarn was heavily pasted down across his forehead and his arms hung limply at his sides. Obviously he hadn't found any ink in the Emptiness or he would have brought it back with him.

One immediately started over, unsure whether to scold him or check him over for injuries, and eventually decided not to say a thing. Six didn't look well and One understood why. If he had left after Eight bullied him, then he would've been out there for hours, and the others only just noticed and went out to get him. "Six." One spoke up and Six looked to him in alarm, having not seen him approaching, and having a slightly guilty look.

"Where were you?" One demanded, becoming stricter, and Six mismatched optics seemed to move away and focus in a different direction. "I…" He looked back, "Went to get ink." He admitted softly and the Leader huffed, "Six, you are not a child, you know better-." He was cut off as Six suddenly entered a coughing spell. He briefly choked on nothing, desperately trying to cover his mouth to muffle the noises, and it took a short bit to smother.

He then managed to straighten himself, "I'm sorry." One inhaled in an attempt to begin lecturing again, but broke off, and decided to instead change his plan. He exhaled and started towards the back of the Library, "Come along. You are in no condition to be standing out here by the entryway." The Artist was obviously confused as to why One was being so helpful or why he was interested at all. The two of them weren't exactly very social from their positions with the others.

One didn't take Six to where Five and Two were. He didn't exactly want to get the others riled at the present and was more than capable of taking care of Six on his own. He knew there was a leftover Machine insignia banner in the back of the Library that the twins had drug in and sought it out. He subtly tore a piece of the red cloth away, somewhat noting how it would make a good replacement cape, and wrapped it around Six's shoulders.

The Artist moved slowly to touch the cloth, but didn't do much else. Instead, One took charge, and began to rub the cloth over the striped canvas in a gentle motion. Something about someone needing him made the Leader feel useful. "There we are. Much better." He noticed that Six was being very strange, strange for being Six, and stared off into nothingness. It managed to actually concern One. "Something is on your mind." he pointed out and the Artist looked to the other.

He looked as unsteady as usual and gave a small, innocent smile, "Head hurts." One didn't like the sound of this and pulled the cloth up to dry the locks of yarn hair. "You were out in the rain for quite a time. It is to be expected." One decided to continue monitoring Six however, because he was clearly not acting like his head was what was bothering him. This is when One spoke, "You should have made me aware of Eight's actions. I did not know that he was taking his aggression out on you."

"It's okay." Six responded quickly, "It doesn't bother me." One scoffed, "It certainly should. Eight is wrong to do this to you." He stood and began to pace as Six wrapped the blanket around himself. "I never notice it. I just draw." Six responded softly and One found himself grow impatient towards the Guard who had been going behind his back and became a nuisance. "He should not have the right. I would have come down upon him if I would have known."

The other didn't answer at first. One was about to speak when Six spoke up, "You know," He actually sound amused, "I lied. I wasn't looking for ink. I was trying to run away." One's optics widened at the sudden admission and he turned to look at the younger, "What?" He didn't expect this from Six. He expected the innocent, somewhat delusional Six, not the bluntly obvious and smiling sadly Six.

"Not like anyone would notice. After all, I don't. I just draw." He had turned his own words against each other before the sad smile dropped as he broke into another fit of coughing. One came closer, smothering any confusion to assist the obviously ill Six. His hand brushed his forehead as to check if he was delusional, "You have a temperature. You need to rest." The Artist seemed reluctant, "I don't want to, One."

"Yes, you do." One insisted as he nearly pulled Six to his feet, "Here, you will be staying with me." He wanted to keep an eye on Six in this state and nearly drug the striped male to his own sleeping quarters. They were nothing special and made in only a few days. The bedding was wrapped up cloth and had a small cloth blanket. Being One, he had managed to somewhat make a copy over it, no doubt to look more regal that the makeshift cot it really was.

"Lie down." One nearly commanded and Six dropped onto the bed limply. His face buried into the pillow as One scrutinized him. One didn't want to admit it, but he was a bit fearful. In the end there were only two people who ever saw him as any kind of leader. Eight, his Guard, and Six. Two saw One as an equal so he did not count as subject or rebellious usurper. Five was also on the fence, too willing to make others happy to be trusted.

Six was sure and true. One didn't want to lose him merely because Eight decided that he couldn't suppress his anger. The Leader sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to touch Six's back. "Why did you try to leave?" He questioned, surprisingly distressed, and Six slowly uncovered his head to speak. "Well… Eight said something… He always says something, but this time…"

He looked depressed and One cursed himself for having any kind of empathy. "And he said?" He insisted as the Artist closed his optics again, "He said nobody would care if I was gone. He was right." He rolled over pitifully and One exhaled, inwardly cursing Eight, "What would possibly give you that idea?" Suddenly Six turned on him, a sudden glare across his face, and he growled, "Five hours alone did. In fact, Twenty-three hours, alone, daily, did."

One recoiled a bit from the sudden burst of outward speaking and watched as Six reverted back to a soft and scared look. He was breathing deeply and looked to be struggling a bit. He was obviously ill from being soaked in cold water. One came forward and put his hands onto Six's shoulders, softly pushing the smaller down, "Rest now. You need it." Six did so, tiredly, and so One decided to try and ease the smaller, even if he was not familiar with these things.

He rested his arms around the striped one's small frame and leaned towards him, to hold him without making him sit up, "It will all be better now." He insisted as he held the limp one, "I will make sure that Eight stops this." The other didn't seem changed except that he pressed closer into One, sighing softly. One put together that Six seldom had physical contact with other Stitchpunks. He then admitted, "I'm a freak."

One abruptly pulled back, "You are certainly not." The Leader insisted and Six looked down, "Yeah, I am, look at me." Six never seemed to show any bit of self-consciousness in the past, but One was quickly learning that Six had been keeping quite a few things hidden. "Six, you are not a freak, you are simply… different." Even One thought that sounded like a pitiful statement and Six looked genuinely confused at it.

"Let me explain." One presented, willing to be patient with Six, "We were all created by the Scientist to be different, save the twins, and we all have unique features made solely to support what we are made for. Such as your hands." Six sat up as One took one of his hands in his own, "You were made to be an artist, so Father gave you hands with the ability to draw, and there is nothing strange about that in the slightest."

The Artist was hesitant and One continued, "Just a bit different. Nothing more." He felt the need to straighten Six's yarn hair which looked a bit matted. One, being somewhat of a perfectionist, ran his fingers through it to pull the locks apart from each other. They untangled easily and Six's optics closed with a soft moan. One didn't know if it was disturbance or relief from being touched, and he was actually instead focusing on something else.

He suddenly noticed something that he never paid attention to in the past. How small and controlled Six's features were. He had noticed it before but tended to dismiss it, "The Scientist made you very well. What you see as flaws are not so. They are…" He caught himself, not believing that he was saying this, and turned away. Six still smiled a little, "Thank you, One. That makes me feel a little better."

He shrugged, "I'm okay. I don't really feel that bad. It'll go away, it always does." Then he rubbed his pounding head. The Artist groaned softly and One looked back to him, "The rain, yes, you need rest." Six laid down again, "Can I stay here?" He asked softly, sweetly, in a way that caused One to feel a weird twinge in his insides. "Of course, Six. You shouldn't be alone tonight."

The Artist gave a soft smile. "Thank you…" One adjusted himself on the bed beside the striped one before the other spoke. "I'm glad I came back." He softly tapped on his key, "I didn't… I didn't think anyone would be up or would care. I was just going to get in bed." One actually managed to smile a bit, "Of course we care, Six. That is why the others are searching for you. That is why I waited for you."

Six boldly slid closer and pressed against the other softly. One took this opportunity to shamelessly hold the other, "I know you become lonely, Six. I do as well. Perhaps, even for just the night, we can find solace in each other." He suggested as he rested his head in the mat of yarn. Six finally caught the change in One's tone, in his behavior, and softly spoke, "Or…" One prodded, "Or?"

"Or we can find solace together, not just for the night, but for longer." With that, One was assured that any emotions, budding from seeing the Artist he hadn't seen before, were returned. He lifted the other's chin and took Six's mouth with his own. Six was confused at the action, but grasped that it was affectionate and realized it felt quite good. He pressed back, sharp fingers gently stroking One's face, and they stayed that way for a bit.

They eventually pulled apart and One pulled Six close to his chest. As he felt the small Artist begin to drift to sleep beside him, he swore that he'd keep him protected, and make sure that he never felt unwanted again.

That meant coming down harder on Eight, but One would never back for a challenge, especially if this was the reward he would reap.

_**END**_

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**Mable: Thus the end of my first 1x6 fic! If anyone has requests in the future then I will be glad to take them! I hope everyone enjoyed!**


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